


Denim and Leather

by ArchOfImagine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Dean Winchester, Cheating, Double Penetration, Established Castiel/Sam Winchester, I have no idea of top/bottom situations yet, Jealousy, M/M, Naughty Dean, No but really..., Pining, Possessive Behavior, Sex Toys, Sibling Incest, Switch Castiel, Switch Dean, Switch Sam, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-10-03 00:27:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10231433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine
Summary: Sam and Castiel have been together for almost seven years... in that time, Sam has never mentioned the fact that he has a brother. Mostly because thoughts of Dean remind him of exactly why he's no longer in contact with his family.But he promised Dean he would always have a spot for him... and now he's standing on Sam and Castiel's doorstep.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [outoftheashes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/outoftheashes/gifts).



> This is not my fault. This is the fault of outoftheashes. And the need for more wincestiel in our lives.

\--- **he smells like denim and cheap leather** \---

* * *

They should get a dog. 

Except for the hassle of constant walks and finding a reliable kennel when their schedules lead them both out of town on the same weekend. Not to mention the HOA fees.

Sam sat stretched out on the sofa, feet propped up on the _wayyyy_ too expensive coffee table as he drank a cold microbrew and contemplated his life. When he met Castiel Novak in college, things were practically perfect. They fell in love easily, both focused on following their dreams into the secular world, and happy to cheer each other on along the way. Sam became a lawyer, like his grandfather had dreamed of him becoming, and Castiel went into the family accounting business, despite his dreams of opening a publishing firm.

Okay, so maybe life hadn’t worked out _exactly_ as planned, but they had stuck together despite all of it. In fact, in a month they would be celebrating their seven year anniversary. 

Which gave no explanation as to why Sam’s life was starting to feel very hum-drum and repetitive.

At what point did one decide they were happy in life and had everything they needed?

The front door to the loft was suddenly pushed open and Sam glanced over to see his boyfriend walking in juggling two take-out bags. “I got sushi,” Cas greeted, moving across to where the kitchen was after kicking the door shut with his foot. It was Saturday, and though they had once made a promise to always take weekends off together, that promise had long ago been broken when Castiel had to take on more work as his father retired. 

Tilting his head, Sam admired the view of his boyfriend’s ass in a well tailored Armani suit. One of the best perks of Castiel’s job.

Standing, he carried his beer across the open expanse of the loft and set it on the counter, before pressing himself up against Castiel’s backside. When was the last time they had sex? Sam honestly couldn’t remember. Probably before the Brockling merger had taken up a lot of his time… and that was six months ago. Pressing himself against Castiel’s ass, he moved one hand around to find the shorter man’s belt, while the other hand curled into dark hair and tilted Cas’ head to the side, offering up a wide expanse of skin just perfect for kissing…

“Mmm, as much as I would love you, instead of dinner, I’m on a bit of time crunch.” Cas wiggled away and turned so that his back was against the counter. He kissed Sam softly, before pulling back with a sad smile. “I have teleconference with Tokyo in twenty minutes.”

With a sigh, Sam brushed his lips against Castiel’s chin, before pulling away. “Raincheck?”

“Of course. Now eat. The hot sushi chef made the California rolls especially for you.”

At least someone still wanted in his pants.

* * *

One day, eventually, Castiel would learn not to listen to his sisters. He had spent most of his life being influenced by Anna and Charlie’s bad ideas, and at one point had finally stopped fighting the twins when they _really_ wanted their way. 

Which is how, on a perfectly nice Monday evening, he found himself being dragged into the city’s most popular gay and lesbian bar. Despite the fact that it was a weekday, the place was _packed_ with people. (“It’s Prince’s birthday!” Charlie had offered as explanation) 

As Castiel followed his redhaired sisters towards a booth, he wondered what his _boyfriend_ would think of him being there. Would Sam wonder where he was if he didn’t get home until much later than normal?

Considering how often Castiel had been working late recently, probably not. With a sigh, Castiel sat down in the booth that Anna pointed him towards and watched as the girls went in search of booty or liquor… probably both. As soon as he was alone, he pulled his phone out and opened up a message to Sam. _’May be late. Fire twins decided I needed a night out with them.’_

Sam’s reply was fairly quick, _’Don’t let them talk you into jagerbombs. Love.’_

Castiel smiled, brushing his finger along the spot where Sam had wrote ‘love’... it was their _thing._ There wasn’t even a reason for it or a good explanation; they had just always ended messages with that one word, instead of tacking on the extra ‘you.’ 

“You must really have a thing for those girls, if you let them drag you here.”

Looking up at the sound of the voice, Castiel watched as a guy wearing a worn leather jacket and dark rimmed glasses slid into the booth across from him. He felt himself staring at the sex-messy brown hair and blowjob-perfect lips, for a moment too long… before he realized the guy was watching him with an amused smile and waiting for a reply. What had he said? Oh, right. “I might.” He looked across the bar to where Charlie and Anna were waiting for drinks and trying to flirt with the same brunette. “They’re my sisters.”

“No shit?” The guy followed his gaze. “Don’t take offense, man, but they sure don’t look like you.”

Castiel snorted, wishing one of the girls would bring him a drink and save him from trying to fumble his way through a real conversation. “Dad’s second wife.”

“Ahh,” the guy nodded, before lifting his hand to wave down a passing waiter. “Well it looks like they’ve ditched you for pussy, so how about some shots?”

“I uh… sure. Why not.”

* * *

Sam finished composing his depositions around one in the morning, and had just changed into a pair of clean lounge pants, ready to go to bed, when the phone on the wall by the door rang. He stood at the entrance to the bedroom and glared across the room at the phone. It was connected directly to the doorman’s desk, which meant that a late night call was important enough not to be ignored. As he walked across the polished wood floor in bare feet, he prayed that something hadn’t happened to Cas.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Winchester, sorry to bother you so late, sir, but you have a guest.”

Sam frowned… in the three years that they had lived in the loft, they had _never_ had a guest. “I do?”

“He says it’s urgent and that you would know him. I’ve checked his identification, sir, and—”

A voice in the background sounded out above the doorman’s words, “Just tell him his fucking brother is downstairs so I can get some sleep, God damn.”

Sam felt his stomach clench at the voice. He took a deep breath, “Does his i.d. say Dean Winchester?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You can let him up.”

“Very well, sir. Have a good night.”

_Not likely,_ Sam replied to himself. Judging by the tone of his voice, Dean was drunk. And considering that the last time they spoke had ended in a shouting match and broken glass, it probably wasn’t a good idea to have Dean there whilst intoxicated.

Realizing that he was only wearing his sleep pants, Sam walked back towards the bedroom to change… only to get cut off mid-step by a pounding at the door. _Shit._ If Miss Edwards from E9 heard Dean making a ruckus outside, she would probably call the cops… He hurried back to the door and pulled it open before Dean could knock again. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed under his breath. “Some of us have neighbors.”

“Heya Sammy,” Dean answered with a grin. A moment later he was wrapping himself around Sam in a tight hug, smelling of booze and sex. “I need a place to crash, that cool with you?”

“Dean—” He watched his brother stumble across to the sofa. What would Cas think? _’Oh yeah, by the way, I have an older brother that I’ve neglected to tell you about for seven years because I’ve spent my whole life wanting to fuck him and hating myself for it.’_ Dean obviously wasn’t taking ‘no’ for an answer, because he was already kicking out of his boots and stripping down to his boxers. “Dean, you can’t—”

Dean sat down on the leather sofa and stared across the room at Sam. The drunkenness had been momentarily replaced by sadness, and Sam could suddenly see the real Dean. 

“You said always, Sammy.”

_Shit._ He had. He had promised his brother he always had a place there. He just hadn’t expected Dean to ever hold him to it. Before another word could be said, Dean was passing out onto the sofa with a loud snore. Sam took a deep breath and crossed the room, reaching out to pull his brother’s glasses off and set them carefully on the coffee table, before pulling the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over Dean. His brother’s clothes were strewn everywhere around the living room, but as he reached to pick them up, he saw the worn leather of Dad’s jacket and pulled away faster than if he had been burnt. 

Leaving the clothes where they lay, he made sure the front door was locked, before heading to the bedroom. As he passed through the archway that lead to the master room, he cursed the fact that he and Castiel had gone for a ‘modern’ loft design that didn’t believe in doors on any room except the bathroom. From his bed he would be able to hear and see his brother. _Fuck._

Before climbing into the king sized bed, he sent off a quick message to Castiel.

_’FYI, don’t get home and freak. We have a guest on the couch. Will explain tomorrow. Love.’_

* * *

The next morning, Sam woke up to a warm body pressed against his back and a hand brushing gently along the hair leading from his belly button to his cock. Blinking his eyes open, he saw that there was still a good hour before he needed to be at work, and wiggled back against Castiel. “Forgot you were a cuddly drunk,” he whispered. 

“Mmm.” Cas brushed a few kisses along the back of Sam’s neck, causing him to shiver. 

Grabbing his boyfriend’s wandering hand, Sam rolled over to face the other man and captured his lips in a kiss. Castiel moaned into it, opening his mouth to Sam as their brushed forward against each other. Sam could tell that Cas was still a little bit drunk, judging by his lethargic movements, but he wasn’t really sure he cared. It was the first time they had both been turned on in bed together in _months._

Suddenly, though, Sam’s erection had faded and he pulled back in both shock and pain. There was something familiar about the smell lingering around Castiel. It was less like the normal scent of a bar, and more the obvious scent of sex and another man’s musky cologne. Castiel had always hated cologne — claimed that most of it smelled fake and masked a bigger problem. Now, it was like he had bathed in it.

Or, had gotten _really_ close to someone else that was wearing it.

Sam sat up in a rush, grasping a hand against his chest where there was an actual _physical_ pain thrumming out of his heart. Castiel was his first love; he had never realized that heartbreak could feel so _real._

“Sam?” Castiel’s drunken voice questioned him, hand reaching out for him. “Come back. We have time.”

“I gotta…” He shook his head and stumbled out of the bed in a rush. 

He was about to push open the bathroom door, when it opened for him and he fell directly against his brother’s chest. Right. Dean. Sam was about to pull away and right himself, when the pain in his chest suddenly came back…

… because there was no escaping the fact that Dean was wearing the very same cologne that Castiel had all over him.

Sam had two seconds to process… before he was punching his brother in the face.


	2. Chapter 2

\--- **he tastes like whiskey and smoke** \---

* * *

Castiel’s head was pounding.

No…

He blinked his eyes in confusion.

That was actual pounding.

With a frown, he slowly pulled himself into an upright position and looked around the room. “Sam?” The sun hitting the bed and the clock on the nightstand said it was way past time for Sam to be at work, which was reiterated by the lack of response. 

But that just meant that someone else was hammering in their loft.

Carefully — for fear of getting sick — he climbed out of bed and went in search of the noise. When he saw the back of a man working to fix their upper cabinet, he tilted his head in confusion. What kind of burglar broke in to fix things? “Wha… who… why are you?”

The man turned, stared at Castiel for a solid thirty seconds… and then promptly fell off of the dining room chair he had been standing on.

“Ow.”

Castiel’s confusion was growing, because he _swore_ that he knew that face. Moving around the kitchen island, he looked down at the man wearing chunky black glasses and sporting a purple bruise around one eye, and realized exactly how he knew that face. “Why are you here!” He looked around the loft in worry. “Sam could be home any minute! Did you fucking follow me home last night?”

The guy groaned, head falling back against the stove. “I’m guessing you’re the reason why Sam flipped out this morning.”

“Fuck!” Castiel felt his heart pounding in his chest. “Sam saw you? Fuck. Get out. Go. Why are you even still here?”

The guy finally stood, holding out his hand to Castiel. “I’m Dean.”

“I don’t need your fucking name. One blowjob in the back of a bar doesn’t mean we’re going fucking _steady._ ”

The guy — _Dean_ — frowned. “You don’t know who I am?”

“You’re a God damn regret that won’t fucking leave, is who you are.”

“I’m _Dean._ Dean Winchester.” When recognition still didn’t dawn in Castiel’s eyes, Dean huffed. “I’m Sam’s older brother! Hasn’t he told you about me?”

“Bullshit. Sam doesn’t have siblings. And even if he did, if he’s gone seven years without mentioning you, he probably doesn’t want you back in his life _now._ ”

“You obviously don’t know Sam.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “I’m guessing I know him a little bit better than you do.”

“Uh huh.” Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Enough to cheat on him, obviously.”

“You don’t—” Castiel shoved past the other man to get to the coffee maker. “That wasn’t cheating.”

“No? Pretty sure my eye says Sam thinks it was cheating.”

“Maybe he punched you because you’re fucking annoying.” Castiel glared over his shoulder as the Keurig machine brewed his coffee. “I’m beginning to want to punch you as well.”

“Are you sure you want to go for round two when Sam could be home any minute?” Dean smirked. “He might get a little extra jealous if he sees me fucking you on the kitchen counter.”

Castiel grabbed his cup before it was done brewing and shoved back past Dean on his way to the bathroom for a shower. “I hope you don’t think he’s actually gonna let you stay here! Better find somewhere else to go, road trash.”

* * *

Sam _really_ didn’t want to go home. Instead, he wanted to hole up in some motel and pretend that he never had a brother or a boyfriend. 

But then he spent all day with visions of Castiel and Dean destroying the loft (or each other), and knew that he had to go home eventually.

When he finally arrived back at the loft, he wasn’t expecting everything to be quite so calm and quiet. He pushed the door shut behind him, and his eyes tracked from where Dean sat watching the television, to where Castiel was in the kitchen making food. It looked so… _domestic._

“Heya Sammy,” Dean called, using the beer bottle he held to wave. 

Jealousy and anger pulled at his stomach as he set his bag down by the door and slowly took his jacket off. Why were they acting like nothing had happened?

A moment later, Castiel was pressing up into the space next to him. “Can we talk? Alone?”

“I uh…” he swallowed back his confusion and anger and turned to nod at his boyfriend. “Sure.”

Of course in an open concept loft, alone meant either the bathroom or the balcony, so Sam followed Cas towards the balcony door and ignored his brother’s arched eyebrows as they walked past.

As soon as they were alone outside, with the chill in the air and the sounds of the city below them, Castiel finally met his gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Sam barely avoided rolling his eyes. “For what? Cheating? Or being caught?”

“Cheating. Sam… I was wasted, I’ve had a long three months at work and the opportunity was just… _there._ I would have come clean once the hangover cleared, you and I both know that.” Castiel took a breath, eyes falling to the ground and shining with tears. “It doesn’t change the fact that I love _you_ and want to spend my life with _you._ ”

Sam ran a tired hand over his face and back through his hair. The pain was still there, but he couldn’t deny that he loved Cas enough to forgive him. Most of the day had spent imagining how he would survive without the other man around, and it had scared him beyond belief. Even when things were bad, the comfort of having his best friend by his side when he got home, made up for it.

He pushed forward, closing the distance between them and wrapping his arms around Castiel, face buried in his neck that _thankfully_ only smelled like Cas. He was ashamed of the wet drops of tears that landed on Castiel’s shoulder as he held him tight. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

And maybe it was naive to be so forgiving, but in seven years, this was the first time that either of them had strayed… considering how often he heard his straight coworkers talking about their recent affairs, he was going to take that as a positive. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Cas answered, fingers clutched in Sam’s suit jacket. A few moments later they pulled apart and Cas wiped at his eyes and motioned towards the loft. “What are we going to do about him?”

“I’m uh… I’m thinking he may be here for a few days. The fact that he showed up at all means he had nowhere else to go.”

Castiel frowned, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a brother?”

“I don’t like to think about my family. You know that.”

“He’s kind of an asshole.”

Sam snorted, nodding his head, “I’m guessing it’ll only get worse.”

* * *

Sam had never experienced awkwardness like he did sitting on the couch next to his brother and across from his boyfriend. Dean had picked the television show they were watching — settling on the channel that had made Castiel huff the loudest. Cas, for his part, was trying diligently to ignore Dean while reading over some papers for work… and Sam was trying to do the same, even though he kept finding his attention diverting back to his brother or Castiel every time one of them made a noise.

Finally, he gave up and set the rest of his paperwork back in his briefcase. “I’m gonna shower,” he mumbled, circling the TV and heading for the bathroom. Maybe warm water and quiet would help relax him. After everything over the last twenty-four hours, he felt more than a little strung out.

He closed himself into the larger than normal bathroom and was just about to strip off his shirt, when a soft knock came at the door. He hadn’t thought to lock the door — after seven years together, there wasn’t much that Cas hadn’t seen or walked in on — so he was only slightly surprised when his boyfriend didn’t wait for an answer before pushing the door open and following him in.

“Hey,” Cas whispered. Sam watched, as he locked the door and then reached out to flip the bathroom fan on. When the noise of the fan drowned out the television noise from beyond the door, Castiel stepped forward. “I was…” he ducked his head, “I was hoping I could join you.”

When they first bought the loft, one of the biggest selling points was the large walk-in shower that it offered. The shower was double the size of standard stalls and offered enough room for ‘extra curricular’ activity… especially between two larger than normal men. 

Castiel had a real fondness for shower sex. And tub sex… which explained the large jacuzzi bathtub occupying the space behind Sam. With a smile and a shiver, Sam stepped closer to Cas, forcing him back against the vanity counter. Even after everything, he couldn’t deny that it had been _too long_ and he was still just as turned on by the thought of Cas as he always had been. His hand moved down to rest on the firm jut of Castiel’s hip bone, as he stared into those piercing blue eyes that he had so easily fallen in love with. “I don’t know, Mr. Novak,” Sam whispered, lips moving to brush along the shell of Cas’ ear. “You don’t look very dirty.”

Castiel smiled, and Sam didn’t hesitate to chase the smile with a kiss, his free hand moving up to curl in Castiel’s shaggy dark brown hair. He pressed forward, the beginning of his erection brushing along Cas’ thigh, teasing him. Warm familiar hands wrapped around his back, sliding down until they just barely tucked beneath the hem of Sam’s sweatpants.

Fuck, but it had been too long. He broke the kiss, rocking his hips as he moved his lips to the spot on Castiel’s neck that he loved so much. 

He had both hands on Castiel’s shirt, toying with the idea of pulling it off… when another knock sounded at the door. _Shit._ Sam laid his head on Castiel’s shoulder.

A moment later, his older brother called through the door, “You two fucking in there? Is it gonna be long? ‘Cause I gotta piss like a race horse out here.”

“I’m going to kill him in his sleep,” Castiel growled, just loud enough for Sam to hear. 

“He’s really not that bad,” Sam replied. Then another, less pleasant, part of his brain had him say, “You obviously liked him enough to suck his dick.”

… and with those few words, the moment was gone and they were awkwardly pulling apart. Sam watched Castiel fix his clothing in the mirror, before unlocking the door and pulling it open. From his angle inside the bathroom, Sam couldn’t see the sneer on Cas’ face, but he was sure it was there, as the other man shoved past Dean and went in the direction of the bedroom.

Dean, obviously seeing the open door as an invitation, walked past Sam with a smile, and stepped up to the toilet to piss without any real care for the fact that his little brother was standing _right there._

Right there… definitely not sneaking glances at Dean’s dick.

Definitely not.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note 1: I don't normally write this much/often. I don't know what's wrong with me.
> 
> Note 2: This is shorter than normal (I usually aim for 2k per chap and this is at 1.6), but THE ENDING WAS FUCKING PERFECT.
> 
> Note 3: Glad y'all are enjoying, thanks for all the feedback!

\--- **he feels like broken dreams** \---

* * *

“Shh, he might hear us.”

Dean bit back a groan, fingers tangled in dark hair and hips lifting off of the couch. He had never been very good at being _quiet._ His eyes met crystal blue and watched as that delectable mouth sank back down on his cock. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if Castiel could deepthroat Sam’s cock as well as he did Dean’s. Though he hadn’t seen it since they were little kids sharing a tub together, Dean always assumed that Sam’s big hands and feet equaled out to an equally large dick. 

He bit his bottom lip, cutting off the words that threatened to spill out — demands of how much Cas liked his cock in comparison to his brother’s. _Fuck yeah,_ but that was hot. His eyes moved over to the bedroom where he could see Sam’s sleeping form through the archway. The only thing hotter than having Cas on his knees, was the idea of Sam pressed up behind him, fucking his tight hole at the same time.

“Gonna come,” Dean breathed. _Swallow it,_ his mind supplied. Swallow it and then go back and kiss Sam…

Yeah. Let him get a taste of big brother’s come.

* * *

Morning dawned bright, and as Sam’s eyes flew open, he stared at the sunlight patterns dancing across the ceiling.

It was Saturday morning, Dean had been staying with them for almost a week, and for the fourth time… Sam was waking up with a hard cock and visions Castiel sucking Dean’s dick on their sofa.

The same scene played out in his mind every time… Dean muffling his groans, comparing his and Sam’s cock sizes, wanting Castiel to share the taste of his come with Sam. _Stupid brain._

The bed dipped, and Sam turned his head to watch as Cas climbed back into bed — still looking disheveled from sleep… and also completely naked. When he saw that Sam was awake, Castiel smiled and slid under the covers, body pushing against Sam’s side.

Castiel’s breath tickled the hairs around Sam’s ear, as he whispered, “Dean is passed out after getting drunk last night. No chance of interruption.” His hand smoothed over the hard line of Sam’s cock in his boxers. “We should take care of this.”

Sam’s head fell back at the feeling of his boyfriend’s hand, he’d barely even been masturbating during their dry spell… always too busy taking care of one thing or another. Never himself or his own needs, though. “Please,” he mumbled, eyes slipping closed as his mind followed the path that Castiel’s hand was taking… trailing slowly up to the edge of Sam’s boxers, before dragging them back down his body.

The elastic settled beneath his heavy balls, and Castiel’s thumbnail ran ever so gently around the leaking tip of Sam’s cock. “You know what I want?” Lips traced a trail along the shadow of a beard that was forming. Sam’s heart rushed and his breathing became a bit uneven, as the sheet shuddered along his chest. Castiel, in lieu of actually wrapping his hand around Sam’s cock, was brushing his fingernails slowly and carefully up and down the length. A tantalizing tickle that he obviously knew Sam would like.

“Wh— what?”

Castiel smirked, the look completely fitting with his messy hair. He pulled his hand away from Sam’s cock, reaching out to instead wrap it around Sam’s wrist and pull him until Sam was laying on his side, face to face with Cas. Sam noted the slightest twinkle of mischief in his boyfriend’s eyes, before Castiel was kissing him with enough passion to almost make up for the six month drought. The kiss was obviously not all Cas wanted, though, because he kept the hold on Sam’s wrist until he had guided the younger man’s touch back to his bare ass.

Groaning into the kiss, Sam gripped onto Castiel’s ass and pulled him even closer, relishing in the feeling of their cocks brushing together. It was only as he was moving his index finger to the crease of Cas’ ass, ready to seek out his sensitive hole, that Sam realized exactly why his boyfriend had guided his hand there. 

He broke the kiss, forehead resting against Castiel’s. “ _Shit._ ”

“Do it,” Cas begged.

Sam’s heart started to beat faster, cock leaking a trail onto the sheets. “Turn around,” he demanded, voice still low enough to keep their guest from hearing. Castiel kissed him gently once more, before rolling over to face away from Sam.

It took every fiber in his body to avoid dragging Cas up onto his hands and knees and carefully examine his ‘present’ in the light of day. It was too risky though… at least in bed, under the covers, they could pretend to be asleep should the need arise.

He’d have to appreciate Castiel’s handywork on a later occasion. Kissing the tan skin of well-muscled shoulders, Sam gripped his boyfriend’s asscheek for a long moment, before tapping two fingers against the flat end of the buttplug firmly nestled inside of the other man. He snuck a peak over Castiel’s shoulder, smiling at the sight of the older man muffling his voice with his fist — fighting for all he was worth to keep from moaning out loud enough for Dean to hear.

“Naughty boy,” Sam whispered, nipping at Castiel’s earlobe. “Need a gag to keep you quiet?” With a choked ‘mhmm’ and a nod of his head, Cas gave his answer. Pulling his hand away, Sam wiggled out of his own boxers, before bringing them up to Castiel’s mouth. He shoved a clean portion of fabric between the other man’s teeth, before moving his hand back down to the plug and in one quick motion, gripping the base and pulling it free. 

Cas had used the same move on him in the past, and he knew from experience that the initial burn of the plug being so forcefully removed was a surprising aphrodisiac for both of them. 

Instead of tossing the toy out of reach, he set it carefully on the pillow in front of Castiel’s face. “Gonna need that for later,” he whispered, fingers dipping into the stretched and dripping hole of his boyfriend. “Fuck.” He couldn’t quite imagine how long Cas must have been in the bathroom prepping himself, but it had to have been a little while. And they kept the toys in the bedroom — which meant Castiel woke up with the very intention of preparing himself for Sam to fuck him. 

_So fucking hot._

He grabbed onto his own cock and brushed the head along Castiel’s crack, before just barely dipping into his stretched out hole. The answering moan was barely muffled by the gag.

“Want that?” Sam asked, biting in spots along Castiel’s shoulder. “Want my cock?” He took the enthusiastic nodding of a head as an affirmative answer, and just as quickly as he had removed the plug, he slid his cock home in one move to take it’s place.

God but it felt good. Sam vowed to himself to never let them go six months without sex again. He gripped the sharp jut of Castiel’s hip and started rocking gently in and out of the familiar tight heat. Thanks to the position they were in and the need to be quiet, he couldn’t really fuck Cas the way he wanted to — hard and fast — but the position left him ample room to reach his hand around and stroke the other man’s cock in time with his thrusts.

Despite the need for relief and the way the moment had started so passionately… after a few quiet minutes of slow, stuttered thrusts, the moment began to change to something completely different. Sam reached up, pulling the gag out of Castiel’s mouth and moving his chin so he could kiss him. “I love you,” he breathed into the kiss.

Castiel smiled, rocking his hips in time with Sam’s. “I’m sorry it’s been so long,” he whispered.

“I know.” Sam drug his hand down the length of the other man’s body before wrapping it back around his hard cock. “Me too.”

They went back to kissing, both getting closer to the edge. Sam could feel the tightening pressure and knew that he was _right there_... when he heard it. The softest of thuds from the living room. 

Castiel was obviously too far gone to have noticed, but Sam blinked his eyes open and watched, over Castiel’s shoulder, as his brother sat on the sofa, eyes glued to them as he stroked his naked cock.

_Fuck._

There was no hiding what they were doing — Dean obviously had a perfect view — especially when Castiel buried his head in his pillow and muffled a cry as he came all over Sam’s hand. Sam continued to pump his hips, waiting on the brink for as long as he possibly could.

And when he saw Dean toss his head back and come with a shudder… Sam finally buried himself deep one last time and came harder than he ever had before.

He closed his eyes and breathed through the aftershocks for a couple more moments, before blinking them back open and catching Dean’s gaze.

One last task.

He grabbed the buttplug from where it sat in front of Castiel’s face, held it up enough so that Dean could see what it was, before pulling his cock free and replacing it with the toy in Castiel’s gaping, wet hole.

The message was perfectly clear.

_Mine._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for John being a major douchebag.

\--- **he dreams in black and white** \---

* * *

It was inevitable, Sam supposed, that Castiel would get called out of town and leave Sam and Dean alone together. He just wasn’t expecting it to happen the day after he fucked his boyfriend while holding his brother’s gaze. But an emergency meeting cut Castiel’s weekend short and suddenly the brothers were alone.

It was nearing lunch, bright and sunny outside, and Sam was starting to get antsy. He changed into a clean shirt, pocketed his wallet, phone, and keys, and turned to his brother on the couch. “Wanna get out of here? Go grab some lunch?”

Dean looked up at him for a moment, before nodding his head and switching the television off. He was already dressed, Sam noted, but hadn’t mentioned anything about plans. The exited the loft, Sam making sure to lock the door behind them, and took the elevator down to the lobby. 

As they stepped out onto the mostly empty sidewalk, Sam realized that he really hadn’t talked to his brother much since he’d arrived. He stared at the street full of parked cars, and turned back to his brother. “Where’s the Impala?” The car would have stood out like a sore thumb amongst all the trendy sedans and hybrids on their street.

Dean didn’t answer right away, just rubbed at the back of his neck as he started to walk down the street. “She’s staying with a friend.” They were walking in the direction of the nearby restaurants, and Sam realized that Dean had obviously been exploring the nearby areas during his stay. “Didn’t want her getting scratched up in the city, ya know?”

He wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about his brother’s tone and the way he said it, that made Sam ninety percent sure Dean was lying. But if Dean was lying, it was because any future attempts at the subject would not be pleasant. Shrugging it off, Sam got to the end of the street and turned right towards Castiel’s favorite burger joint. “Probably a good idea. Cas had a car when we started dating, but he spent so much on parking garage fees that he finally just sold it. Easier to take the subway.”

Dean stayed quiet the rest of the walk, and when they got to the entrance of the restaurant, Dean reached out to grasp Sam’s arm before he could open the door. “Sammy…”

He frowned over to his brother, “Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t have a lot of money for things right now.”

Sam had already kind of assumed that, based on the fact that Dean was sleeping on his couch and had only brought a duffel bag of clothes with him. He pulled the door open and nodded for Dean to enter. “My treat.” He waved at the familiar waitress that always seemed to be working when he ate there with Cas, and lead Dean towards one of the booths at the front of the restaurant. As they slid in across from each other, Clara, the waitress, offered them menus and quickly took their drink order. After she walked away, Sam happily opened his menu. “Castiel loves burgers almost as much as you do. This is his favorite spot.”

It took a couple of minutes, but when they had finally ordered and Clara had replaced their menus with the sodas they ordered… they were left no other distraction but to either awkwardly avoid looking at each other, or give in and actually _talk._

They had never been big on talking, but Sam knew that he couldn’t have Dean staying with him indefinitely without at least finding out what his plans were. “So uh… how have things been?”

If there was one thing Sam didn’t want to discuss, above all else, it was the past. Having Dean there, staring him in the face, definitely hurt enough for a lifetime. _’Disgusting freak,’_ a voice whispered in his mind. He shook it off, focusing on his soda instead of Dean.

Dean gave him that fake smile and nod that he had used on people for years — people that didn’t actually know his habits like Sam did. “Fine. Thanks for uh… letting me stay. Especially after everything with Cas.”

“I’m still kind of digesting the fact that you showed up on my doorstep,” Sam mused. “Me, of all people.” He was under the impression that after the phone call they had seven years prior… Dean hated him and would rather act like he never had a brother, going forward.

“I didn’t…” Dean waited a minute, and Sam looked up to watch his brother watching the street outside. Finally, Dean finished, “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak, only to stop as he realized what those words really meant. _You were the last choice. I was desperate. There was no one else._

Clara sat down their plates and that was the end of the discussion.

* * *

\--- **nine years ago** \---

* * *

They were living in a single-wide trailer built in the seventies. When taking a shower in the main bathroom, the floor would dip with age and water rot. Sam shared the front room with his brother — squished onto a full size mattress on the floor because it had been free on a curb and John Winchester believed in free things. If not for the sheet set that Dean had stolen, Sam would probably spend the whole night worrying about germs — he had spent two hours trying to disinfect the thing. 

On that particular night, Sam thankfully had the mattress to himself. Dean had found a local hook-up that he could score both sex and weed from, and had been fucking her on her nights off for two weeks. It was the longest relationship that Sam could remember his twenty-year-old brother ever having. 

He tossed on the bed, trying to tune out the sounds of the porn that his father was watching in the living room. John didn’t much care if his bad habits were heard by others; he was a man that lived his own life. Still, the fake moans were rattling off the fancy surround sound speakers that John had lifted and it felt like the woman in the video was right there in his room. Old trailers had thin walls.

_”Fuck yeah, baby, take that cock.”_

He squeezed his eyes shut, reciting the periodic table of elements in order as a way of putting his mind to sleep. As he drifted off, he clutched Dean’s pillow, letting his brother’s scent ease away the last moments of the day…

* * *

_”You look pretty like this, Sammy.”_

_Sam moaned at the words. His eyes were covered, and even without seeing his brother, he could track every movement he made. He felt his cock leaking a trail onto his stomach. He wanted to reach out, try to touch his brother’s skin, but he was tied down._

_“Pretty little cock slut. Tell me how much you want my dick.”_

__”Please, Dean,” _he whimpered._

_There was a light slap to the skin of his thigh, so close to his hard cock but still so far away. “Is that what I asked for? You begging? No. Tell me how much you want my dick.”_

_“So much,” he answered._

_“What do you want me to do with it?”_

__”Fuck me.” __

_“Scream it. Scream it loud enough for the neighbors to hear how much of a cock slut you are for your brother’s dick!”_

_Another slap. Even closer to his cock. Sam screamed out in frustration. “Please fuck me! Fuck me, Dean, I_ need _it. I need your cock in my ass!”_

* * *

A hard, burning slap across the face woke Sam from his sleep. He jumped at the contact, instinct thrusting him up into a sitting position even as he blinked his eyes open in shock.

John Winchester stood over him, disgusted sneer on his face. “I always kinda figured you were queer, ya know? Why else would you pick soccer over football?” John reached down, gripping the t-shirt that Sam had went to sleep in and pulling the boy to his feet. “But this? Fucking _disgusting freak._ ” 

He shoved Sam until his shoulder landed hard against the closet door. Sam stared at his father, sleep fog still making it hard to understand what he had done wrong. “I don’t understand,” he whispered, knowing better than to raise his voice in front of the other man.

“Pack your shit and get out. Ain’t no son of mine gonna be laying here lusting after his brother. You were barely worth my time before.”

“But, Dad—” The word cut like glass in his throat — he hated referring to John as _dad_ — but there were tears in his eyes at the thought of being kicked out of his home at sixteen. It wasn’t fucking perfect, hell, it barely constituted as a home, but it was all he knew. The only family he had was John and Dean. “ _Please,_ ” he begged, tears hitting his face.

“God, you’re a fucking pansy. Just like your fucking mother. Shoulda got rid of you a long time.” When Sam didn’t move except to draw in shaky breaths, John slammed his fist into the wall right next to Sam’s head. “I told you,” he growled, “to pack your shit and get out of my house.”

* * *

\--- **now** \---

* * *

Sam woke up covered in sweat and heart racing. He sat up in bed and scanned the dark room in front of him, trying to understand why he was so shaken up. Then he remembered. 

_John._

He closed his eyes and felt tears wetting his cheeks as he was suddenly reminded of the loneliness that he had felt that night as he carried one solitary backpack of belongings out of the trailer. He had walked two miles into town, going toward the spot where Dean liked to fuck girls in the back of the Impala and hoping he’d find his brother. Maybe Dean could talk sense into John. Maybe Dean would run away with him.

The spot had been empty, and Sam had fallen onto the gravel road and sobbed. Sixteen year olds weren’t supposed to be suddenly left in charge of their own lives.

It had taken two weeks to hitchhike to a new town that would accept his fake papers and let him enroll in high school. For six months he went to school during the day, worked as many hours at a rundown diner as he could, and then slept in a discarded tent beneath the school bleachers. When he finally had enough to rent a room in an apartment above a Chinese restaurant, he slept on a carpeted floor and dreamt about his brother.

He called Dean once, two years after he walked out of the trailer. He got an acceptance letter to Stanford — full-ride — and was so excited that he had dialed his brother’s old cellphone number from the payphone by his work.

The call had lasted exactly one minute and thirty-eight seconds.

Long enough for Dean to tell him that he probably shouldn’t call again. There had been disdain in the tone of his voice, and Sam had imagined the conversation between John and Dean as they discussed what kind of person Sam must be to want to fuck his brother. 

Maybe they had drank a beer and laughed. Wrote off his issues as coming from Mary’s side of the family…

… Sam folded his legs and let his head rest on his knees as he turned to look at the spot where Dean was sleeping soundly on his couch. 

He tried to muffle the tears as they started to fall a little harder.


	5. Chapter 5

\--- **he likes to paint you in bruises** \---

* * *

Sam had a rough week. After the nightmare Sunday night, he couldn’t really screw his head back on straight and ended up faking his way through most of his tasks. Thankfully it wasn’t a trial week and he spent most of his time going to meetings and handling paperwork. In the middle of getting his ass chewed out by his boss — about something that had transpired in a case two weeks prior — Sam couldn’t help staring at the ketchup stain on the old man’s collar and realizing how much he _really fucking hated_ his job. Being a lawyer had seemed like such a good idea in school — it was the most prestigious of careers and with the income he would make, he’d never spend another day sleeping on the ground.

Now he was staring down thirty and just so tired of waiting to be happy. Castiel made him happy. Their home and life made him happy. _Except_ for the part where they spent so much time apart because of their busy schedules. Sam had once dreamt of having kids — there were so many awesome kids that deserved to be adopted — but how fair would it be to do that and then spend like two hours a week actually getting to be a part of the kid’s life.

Friday night, he got off the subway a couple stops early and walked the two miles home just to try and clear his head. Castiel was still out of town; had texted every day complaining about how shitty it was to be stuck in London and working fourteen hour days, leaving absolutely no time for exploration of the city.

When he got home, a stereo was playing old rock tunes and Dean was humming along in the kitchen. Sam shut the door, dropped his coat and bag on the table, and kicked off his shoes. When he walked into the kitchen, he frowned at the mess of ingredients spread out on the granite counters. “What are you uh… what are you doing?”

“Making empanadas. Fucked a girl from Argentina when I was twenty-three… we used to get high and she’d teach me how to cook.”

Sam nodded, like that explanation made complete sense. “I’m gonna ditch this stupid suit,” he growled, walking towards the bedroom. Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom after a quick shower, dressed in much more comfortable lounge pants and his first Stanford tee from so many years ago. He dug into the fridge for a beer, popping off the top with the edge of the counter and taking a large swallow before turning to watch his brother cook. After a minute or two, he moved around the kitchen island and sat down on a barstool, reaching out to grab a slice of bell pepper as he did. “I miss Cas.”

“Still in London, eh? Any word on when he’ll be back?”

“He’s hoping Sunday. I’m guessing more like Wednesday. The person brokering a deal for the company completely fucked it up and he’s kissing ass to get it fixed.” He sighed, staring at his beer bottle. The sound of Metallica on the radio made his eyes clench shut at the memories of sleeping in the backseat of the Impala, his head resting on Dean’s lap. “Why weren’t you happy for me?” he whispered, before he could even stop himself.

Dean slid a tray of empanadas into the oven, brushed his flour covered hands off on the kitchen towel, and turned to Sam in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Stanford,” Sam mumbled, head down. “When I called to tell you about Stanford.”

His brother snorted and moved to dig out his own beer from the fridge. “You mean when you called to gloat in my face? Yeah, kind of hard to be fucking excited in those situations, Sam.”

“I didn’t—” With a frown, he looked up. “I wasn’t calling to gloat, Dean.”

“Yeah? Sure fucking sounded like it. _’Guess who got into the most prestigious college on the west coast? Full-fucking-ride!’_ ” Dean replied, mimicking Sam’s teenage enthusiasm. “Just another stab in the back from Sam greater-than-the-name Winchester.”

Sam stared at him like he was crazy. “When the fuck did I ever say that?” He had _not_ been calling to brag about Stanford. He had been calling for the approval of the only opinion he ever sought out.

Dean slammed his beer down on the granite island. “Don’t give me that bullshit, Sam! It’s why you fucking _left_ , right? Too fucking good for the Winchesters. Never wanted to join the family business, never wanted anyone to know your fucking brother and dad. I get it, okay? It was a shitty childhood. But I would have _never_ left you for bigger and better.”

He stared at the anger and pain in his brother’s eyes and felt a tight pressure clenching at his heart. “Is that what John told you?”

“Yeah.” The buzzer on the stove beeped and Dean moved to methodical remove their dinner from the oven. Once he had, he threw the oven mitt back on the counter and stared at Sam. “You didn’t think you could just leave without him telling me about the bullshit you said, did you?”

Tears dropped onto the counter as Sam clenched his bottle a little harder. “I was sixteen,” he whispered. “We spent practically every free minute together. I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

Dean snorted, his back to Sam as he plated the empanadas. “You obviously wanted _something_ to happen.”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Please don’t tell Cas. It’s weird enough after what you two did. I can’t lose him too because of this bullshit.”

His brother stopped, holding both plates and on the way to placing Sam’s in front of him. He seemed to be noticing the tear tracks for the first time. “Cas seems like the kind of guy that would understand you wanting to leave behind a criminal father and a lowlife brother.”

Sam took the plate but doubted he’d be able to eat with the mess of emotions wreaking havoc on his stomach and heart. “I meant the incest part,” he supplied. “I doubt he’d be real supportive of me wanting to fuck my brother.” The room was quiet after his words — apparently the radio was dying — and Sam waited a moment before standing, doing everything he could to avoid looking at his brother. “Food smells fantastic, but I don’t think I can eat right now.” He grabbed a sweatshirt from the coatrack and slipped his socked feet into his running shoes. “I’ll be back.”

* * *

The building HOA people had insisted two years prior on developing a rooftop garden as a means of utilizing the open space for a functional purpose. It lasted three months until Miss Clover died and suddenly no one had the time to care for the space. After the argument with Dean, Sam found his way up there and hid away in the small alcove where the doormen hid out to smoke. There was a cushioned lounge chair pushed up against an HVAC system and looking out over the lights of the city… it was a good view. A good place to quietly contemplate how badly one could fuck up one’s life.

Apparently? Very, very badly.

Sam fell asleep in the chair… long after his tears had dried and he was counting the amount of people in his head that would miss him if he walked fifty feet forward without stopping.

One. _Cas._

But even still, it wasn’t hard to convince himself that Cas would probably easily fall into Dean’s arms and move on without him.

The next time he blinked his eyes open, the edges of the sky were orange and the sun was beginning to rise. It was scheduled to be a beautiful day for the weather. The kind of day that if Cas were home, he’d suggest a walk along the bay.

His body hurt from sleeping in the chair, but the idea of going back down to his loft was too much to even try and contemplate. He could go for a run. See how far his legs took him before they gave out…

In the end, he waited until the sun was completely risen before walking back into the building and slowly taking the stairs back down to the proper floor.

He had no idea what he was expecting when he walked into the loft, but an empty couch and Castiel’s luggage on the dining room table was definitely not it. He closed the door behind him, kicked off his shoes and peeled off his sweatshirt, before quietly walking to the edge of the master bedroom. There was a familiar form tucked into the bed, dark brown hair a messy tuft above the sheet. 

Sam smiled with relief, stripped down to his boxers, and climbed into the bed on Cas’ side, quickly curling himself around the other man. He kissed along Castiel’s shoulders as a couple fresh tears fell. He had no idea how much he had actually missed the other man until that very moment.

His boyfriend rolled over in his arms, blinking owlishly as he took note of the tears in Sam’s eyes. “Hey,” Cas whispered, “What’s wrong?”

Sam leaned forward and kissed him, letting it deepen for a moment before whispering against his lips, “Missed you.”

With a bemused smile, Castiel pulled back. He reached up, brushing away the tears. “I’ve been gone longer. It never created a reaction like this, before now.”

Grabbing his wrist, Sam kissed along his fingertips. “Had a rough week.”

“Must’ve. I ran into Dean when I got back, he said you didn’t come home last night.”

Sam snuggled into Cas, laying his head on the other man’s shoulder. “Fell asleep on the roof.” He thought about his brother, wondered if Dean had said anything about their conversation to Cas. “Where is Dean? Couch is empty.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Sam shook his head. “Apparently he got a job and today was his first day. Working for some manufacturing company.”

_Huh._ He hadn’t expected his brother to stay around long enough to need a job. In all honesty, he had spent the past two weeks waking up every day and expecting Dean to be gone without a goodbye. They fell into an easy silence for the next few minutes, and Sam would have begun to think Cas was asleep except for the soft touch brushing up and down his back. He waited another moment before asking, “What would you say if I quit my job?”

“Hmm.” Sam watched as Castiel stared up at the ceiling. Finally, he spoke, “I’d probably ask what your plans were for future work.”

Sam shrugged. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Well, we have enough in savings that we could probably stand for you to be unemployed for a couple months without it really being a burden. If you think that you need to quit,” Cas turned to him, kissing Sam’s forehead and smiling, “then I will support you.”

“Even if my next job is male stripper?”

“Dick covered or uncovered?” 

Sam honestly had no idea how naked male strippers got. “Let’s go with covered.”

Castiel chuckled and kissed him again. “As long as I’m the only one that gets the full picture? Strip away, my love.”

“Good to know.”

“But no porn. I draw the line at you filming porn.”

“Male prostitute?”

“What if you became a circus clown?”

“No clowns!”


	6. Chapter 6

\--- **he changes colors in the daylight** \---

* * *

The best part about Dean having a job was that he spent significantly less time at the loft — allowing Sam and Cas more time alone. 

The worst part about Dean having a job was the complete lack of communication between him and Sam, since their argument the past week. 

Sam tried to ignore. Tried to believe that he didn’t care what his brother was thinking at any given time, but it wasn’t really working. Instead, he started to focus on other things… like turning in his two week notice and beginning to look at real estate outside of the city. He wondered if he could convince Cas to commute, if it meant having a house with a yard. Room for _kids._ (And a dog.)

He was sitting on the couch next to Cas, laptop open while his boyfriend read next to him, when he came upon an email with a wedding invite from one of his friends in college. Sam frowned, clicking open the email and staring at the happy couple for a moment. Finally, he let out a surprised laugh and turned to Castiel. “We should get married.”

Cas turned to look at him, eyebrows raised like Sam was crazy. “What?”

“We just had our seven year anniversary. We’ve been dating for _seven years._ People at that point are usually married.”

“Do we really need a piece of paper to prove that we love each other?”

“No, but what if, Heaven forbid, something happened to one of us and the other was left with nothing because of the lack of legal precedence. What if we wanted to seriously look into adopting and they automatically turned us down because we haven’t fully committed to each other?” Sam pouted. “What if I wanted it?”

With his ‘contemplation’ look in place, Castiel stared at him for a while. There was something in that look that always made Sam a bit nervous — bringing back memories of the feeling he’d get when he anticipated bad news as a kid. Finally, though, Castiel shrugged his shoulders and answered simply, “Okay,” before going back to reading his book.

Sam could feel his heart in his throat. _’Okay,’_ okay? Or ‘okay, I’ll do this to appease you,’ okay?

He waited, but there was no follow-up, so finally he found the nerve to ask, “Seriously?”

“I’m not big into ceremonies, though. They seem like a complete waste of expense… especially with you going into the new job adventure at the same time. So I’ll do it, but I’m much more of a courthouse wedding type.”

 _Huh._ They were… they were actually getting _married_? Holy shit. Sam closed his laptop and sit on the coffee table, before quickly spinning his body around and straddling his _fiancé’s_ lap. The move shoved Castiel’s book up against his chest and Sam carefully placed the bookmark in it before setting it aside and boxing Castiel in with his arms on the back of the couch. He leaned forward, loving the heat in Cas’ gave. After a quick, soft, brush of lips against the other man, he stayed close and whispered to the air between them, “I _love_ you.”

“You know,” Cas mused, fingers brushing along Sam’s waist, slowly pressing his shirt higher in one spot. “You’ve been different since Dean got here.”

His eyes dropped down and his fingers toyed patiently with a button on Castiel’s shirt. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily.” Cas reached up, slowly carding his fingers through Sam’s hair. “Wanting a new job? Wanting to get married? It’s like Dean being here made you realize how unhappy you were with things.” Cas frowned, “You aren’t unhappy with me too, are you?”

“No,” Sam shook his head. “I just… there were very specific reasons why I got kicked out as a kid. Having Dean back has reminded me of everything I went through back then — everything I tried so hard to forget. But it also reminded me of the dream I had, the things that I wanted out of life in order to feel happy.” He drew a finger down the line of buttons on Castiel’s shirt, before looking up to meet his blue eyes. “This life we’ve made here has been fine, but is this really how we want to live going forward?” He motioned around at the loft that they had bought because it was _trendy_. “I love this place, Cas, I do, but is it us? Or a persona we wanted people to see? And if it was just a persona, what is the point? We never have anyone over. Never try to make nice with the rest of the grumpy people in the building.”

There was a long, _long_ pause, before Castiel let his head drop back against the sofa and started laughing. Sam waited, still perched on his boyfriend’s lap, trying to figure out what he had said that was so damn funny.

Finally, Cas raised his head and smiled at Sam. “I fucking hate this loft.”

Sam’s eyes grew wide at the confession. “You do?” He’d always thought they lived there because Cas liked the style. “Seriously?”

“I never said anything because I thought you loved it here,” Cas explained.

And suddenly Sam was laughing as well… because that seemed very much like something they would do, both ignoring their own happiness in favor of the other. Soon they were both laughing, Sam’s head resting on Castiel’s shoulder, feeling his shoulders shake. 

A clearing of a throat had them turning to look at Dean, who had apparently walked in during their giggle fit and was now standing and watching them in confusion. “This is the weirdest fucking foreplay I have ever seen.”

His reaction, of course, just sent them into another round of hysterics.

* * *

Over the next week, Sam started spending more and more time looking at houses for sale. He’d made a list on his computer of wants and was narrowing down the available market and their available money for buying. Castiel was right — they had a bit set aside in saving to help them out — but buying a new house and being jobless wouldn’t work out for long, unless they were able to sell the loft at top of market value. 

One night he was up late, despite the fact that he had to work the next day because he just really didn’t care much anymore, when Dean got out of the shower and walked over to sit down on the sofa next to him. Sam closed his eyes, trying not to feel overwhelmed (and a little bit turned on) by the smell of Old Spice and clean skin. “Sorry,” Sam whispered, making to close down his things and move. “I didn’t mean to camp out on your bed.”

“No, it’s cool.” Dean laid a hand on Sam’s kneecap. “Stay. I was thinking of grabbing a beer, want one?”

He swallowed down a lump in his throat and nodded. “Sure.” He sent a quick glance to the darkened bedroom where Cas was asleep, before focusing back on his laptop and the real estate website he was looking at. Dean came back a minute later with two open beer bottles and Sam took his with a soft thanks. 

Instead of sitting on the opposite end of the sofa, Dean sat down right next to him, body pressed against Sam’s so he could look at the laptop screen. “Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Sam finished off half of his bottle in one go, attempting to calm his nerves. When he had pulled the bottle back, he clicked to the next screen. “Cas and I are talking about getting a new place.”

“Huh.” Dean sipped at his beer, before laying his head on Sam’s shoulder so he could have the best view of the pictures on the screen. He watched for a few minutes in silence, before finally asking, “Why so many bedrooms?”

“I uh…” Sam swallowed, “I want to adopt.”

Dean nodded, before reaching out to point at the screen. “I like that one. Look at that yard.” Sam clicked on the button without being nodded and could practically feel the excitement vibrating off of Dean. Dean pointed at one of the photos, “Oh man, look at that… it’s got an apartment over the garage! I could rent from you guys and still be close.” He snorted, turning to look at Sam, “Not peeping-Tom close like now, but close.”

Sam slowly scrolled over the details of the house, noticing that it fit almost every one of the ‘wants’ on his list. It even had a swingset in the backyard. “I like it,” he mused. He scrolled back up to the price, “And it’s under budget. Especially if we have a rental income.”

“We should play hooky tomorrow and go look at it.” Dean reached out, pointing at the spot on the listing mentioning an ‘open house’ the next day.

He took another drink of his beer. “Shouldn’t you avoid missing work, this early into the job?”

“I’m off tomorrow already.” Dean nudged his shoulder, “I just meant that lawyer-Sam should play hooky.”

He nodded, seriously contemplating how nice the idea sounded. As his ‘last day’ drew closer and closer, he hated the job more and more. “Okay. But it’s an hour outside of the city and we don’t have a car…”

“Pretty sure that’s why they invented rental car companies.”

“ _Huh._ ” His eyes flickered over to the darkened bedroom. “And Cas?”

“Imagine how surprised he’ll be if you secretly find the perfect house so quickly.”

* * *

An hour later Sam laid in bed and stared at a dark ceiling as he tried to pinpoint the moment when he had completely lost his sanity.

He was going to spend the next day with his brother. He had set his alarm clock with the intention of waking up, renting a car, and driving an hour outside of the city to see a house… with his _brother._

Normal people wouldn’t even blink an eye at the idea. But it hadn’t even been a week since they had fought over the fact that Sam had left as a teen after wanting his big brother to fuck him. In that time, Dean had gone on like normal while Sam had patiently waited for the other shoe to drop. 

It hadn’t. _Instead_ they were going on an adventure together and Dean had already mentally moved into Sam and Cas’ new home like he planned to stay forever.

What were they going to talk about on the drive?

Why had it felt so nice to have Dean pressed up against his side the way he had been on the couch?

What would Castiel think if he knew that he wasn’t the only one that apparently wanted to fuck Dean?

_I’m going to hell._


	7. Chapter 7

\--- **he knows the best kind of mistakes** \---

* * *

The next day, Sam woke up first thing and drank a cup of coffee while Dean showered. Once his brother was ready, they took a cab to the nearest car rental company to get a car. Dean took one look at the sporty Chevy Camaro sitting on the lot and nudged Sam’s arm with a ‘please, please, please,’ look in his eyes. Sam laughed, handing over his credit card and making sure the company put Dean down as a driver as well.

Granted, getting his 6’4” frame into the short sports car was a lot easier said than done, but as expected... Dean offered him no chance at getting to actually drive. Which was ironic considering Dean was the one that didn’t already have experience driving around the city they were in. Sam pulled up directions to the home on his phone and gave off instructions to his brother until they were pulling onto the freeway and heading east out of the city.

After twenty minutes of driving, they ended up stuck in construction traffic. Sam reached forward, turning on the A/C and smiling at the cool breeze hitting his skin. He leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers along to the soft melody coming from the radio. After a moment, he turned his head to look at his brother. “Cas and I are going to get married.”

“Seriously?” Dean reached over and slapped Sam’s knee jovially. “Congrats, man! That makes me feel a lot better about that whole blow job mistake.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “I thought we had decided not to mention that again.”

“Right. Right.” Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment... gently inching the car forward with traffic, before asking, “Do I get to be your best man?”

_Huh._ He hadn’t even considered that. Especially since all they had planned so far was the fact that it wouldn’t be a big wedding. “Cas just wants to do something small at a courthouse. I suppose you could be my witness?”

“Good.” Dean nodded.

Sam glanced out the passenger side window, staring at house upon house filling up the city suburbs. Hearing his brother’s excitement about something like Sam’s marriage made him feel... _giddy._ It sounded like permanency. “Are you...” he frowned, “Are you staying? For good?”  
Traffic started to let up and Dean didn’t answer his question until they had driven past the spot where men were working on the road. Once they were beyond that point, Dean finally replied, “I have no where else to go, Sammy.”

It definitely wasn’t the answer that Sam was expecting to hear. He expected Dean to enjoy the drifter lifestyle that they had grown up with. To hear him say otherwise definitely seemed _unusual._ “What about dad?” Sam frowned, realizing for the first time that it had been weeks and not once had John Winchester called or showed up looking for Dean. That _definitely_ didn’t fit. “Did you two have a falling out? I’m surprised he let you go this long without checking up on you.” _Especially to come see me,_ he thought to himself. John would not have allowed that in any universe.

Sam watched as Dean’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He saw the nervousness in his brother’s eyes as he stared out at the expanse of highway before them. “Dad’s gone,” Dean whispered.

He didn’t understand. “Gone?”

“There was a wreck. We were driving to Virginia to help out some friend of his on a job. It was the middle of the night and I passed out because I’d driven the day shift. I didn’t...” Dean swallowed. “I didn’t realize he was drinking. He was so good at hiding his shit from me, that eventually I stopped asking, ya know?”

“ _Dean._ ”

“They weren’t quite sure how it happened, but a semi ended up hitting Dad’s side and pinning us against a tree. Baby was totaled and I was in the hospital with a broken leg and crushed ribs for about a month. Dad died instantly on impact.”

_Shit._ Sam felt sick. He quickly motioned to the side of the road. “Pull over.”

Dean switched lanes and pulled the Camaro over to the shoulder without hesitation. Sam climbed out of the car in a rush and bent over the dirty in time to lose his breakfast. He wasn’t sure what part was causing the worst reaction: the fact that his father was dead or the idea that Dean had also been close to dead. If they had both died, would he have ever found out? They used to travel with a dozen different fake identities, so how would authorities had known which was real in order to contact next of kin.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Sam stood and stared out at the houses. He blinked away tears, and after another few deep breathes, went back to the car. Once he was inside and buckled, he turned a steady gaze on his brother, who was still waiting for permission to drive. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Dad…” Dean wiped at his own face and avoided looking at Sam. “Dad told me you left us, okay? He said you got into this big fucking argument that night and demanded he stop fucking around with your life, and when he told you how good you had it, you spit in his face and told him you didn’t want to be a fucking Winchester anymore.”

“That—” _Shit._ Sam’s head fell back against the headrest. He had _admitted_ to his feelings for no reason. “That’s bullshit. He kicked me out.” _In for a penny, in for a pound…_ “I told you. I went to bed one night, he was watching his fucking porn on the surround sound, I had a dirty dream and when I woke up, he was slamming me against the wall and calling me a sick bastard that he wouldn’t let stay under his roof.”

Dean gave an indignant snort, and pulled the car back onto the freeway. “Exit twenty, yeah?”

* * *

“So you and your boyfriend are living in the city now? What’s making you look into moving this far out?”

Sam looked up into the way too chipper face of the realtor woman and forced a smile. He was still a bit shaken from the earlier conversation with Dean, but couldn’t deny that the house was damn near perfect. The more he saw of it, the more he couldn’t wait to show it to Castiel. Their _family_ could start in that house. “We’re actually hoping to adopt soon, so we’re looking to get settled in a bigger place.” 

The woman’s face lit up even more. “Congratulations, you two! Children are the absolute best. I have three rugrats of my own and wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

“Oh we’re—”

Sam’s attempt at correcting the woman was quickly cut off by Dean wrapping a hand around his waist and pulling Sam close. “We’re super excited to become parents.” He gave Sam a shit-eating grin, “Aren’t we, honey?”

_What the fuck._ “Super,” Sam managed.

Dean turned back to the woman as he entwined his hand with Sam’s. “Now, can we see the garage apartment? My brother is planning on renting the extra space from us.”

Never in his life had Sam felt his hand get as sweaty as it was in Dean’s grasp. He couldn’t fucking figure out what kind of game his brother was playing as they held hands all the way up the stairs and into the apartment where _Dean_ would hopefully be living. 

He was maybe starting to reconsider having his brother around full-time…

* * *

By the time they finished touring the house and getting copies of all the necessary information in case they were interested in buying it, it was the heat of rush hour and both men decided it wasn’t worth it to fight traffic right away. They found a bar and grill in the nearby town and Dean had absolutely no qualms about letting Sam pay for their meal and drinks with his credit card. 

“You know, today has been fun. We should rent a room and go bar hopping. I’ve never really had the opportunity to get drunk with my baby brother before.”

Sam opened his mouth to make excuses about having work the next day, when he saw a twinkle in Dean’s eye and realized exactly how much he would enjoy spending a night goofing off and getting drunk. “Why not?”

Most everything in the town center was within walking distance, so they found a nearby hotel and rented a room, before pocketing the roomkey and walking across the street to a bar. The place was packed, for a weeknight, filled to the brim with blue collar workers just looking to unwind. Dean and Sam found a table near the back, and Dean gave the waitress a sweet smile before ordering a round of shots and two beers.

Sam pulled his phone out, sending off a quick message to Cas so he wouldn’t worry. _’Dean and I are having a guys night. Took a roadtrip about an hour out and are gonna spend night here. Love.’_

_’Just say no to tequila.’_ Cas replied a few minutes later. 

With a smile, he put his phone back in his pocket and focused on their drinks arriving.

* * *

Later that evening, Sam came to the conclusion that as long as he was shit-faced drunk… he could beat his brother at pool and darts. Any other time, and Dean beat him without any effort.

At one in the morning, the bartender called for last call and Sam paid the tab before leaning against his brother as they stumbled out of the bar and back across the street to the motel.

The other thing he found to be true… was that Dean Winchester was a handsy mother fucker when he was drunk. As Sam tried to unlock their room door, he felt Dean’s hand on his back, straying dangerously low considering they were _brothers._

When he managed to get the door open, he let out a sigh of relief and pushed into the room, only to stop and stare a moment after he flicked the light on. Something was wrong… “I know I’m drunk but didn’t we order two beds?”

Dean laughed, kicking the door shut and beginning to strip out of his clothes. “It that big of a deal? Not like we haven’t shared a bed before, Sammy.”

Why did his skin have to feel so warm and tingly when Dean said his name like that? Sam watched through a whiskey haze as Dean stripped down to his dark blue boxer-briefs and fell back onto the bed. 

Why was his mouth suddenly so dry? Shaking it off, Sam went into the bathroom to piss, before walking back out and kicking off his shoes. He couldn’t quite tell if his brother was asleep or not, so he flipped off the light, stripped down to his own boxers, and climbed under the covers on the empty side of the bed.

Dean made a soft grunting noise, rolled around a bit, and also managed to find his way under the covers. Sam felt Dean’s warm breath hitting his skin and stared at the ceiling in the darkness as he pleaded with his cock not to react. 

If they hadn’t rented such a tiny fucking car, he would toss his clothes back on and sleep out there.

Sam was just about to fall into an uneasy sleep… when he felt the soft touch of hand resting on his thigh and slowly inching upwards.

His eyes flew back open.

_What. The. Hell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *walks away whistling*


	8. Chapter 8

\--- **he kisses so sweet** \---

* * *

Sam worked his last day at the law firm on Friday and went home that night with a real smile on his face for the first time in what felt like years. When he got home, he saw his fiancé sitting on the sofa typing sporadically on his laptop... moving over, Sam glanced at the screen, noted that the email had auto-saved, and closed the laptop.

“Wh.. what are you doing?” Castiel asked, watching as Sam placed the laptop on the coffee table.

“We’re going out. On a date. A real date.” Grabbing Cas’ hands, he pulled the other man to his feet and gave him a gentle shove towards the bedroom. “You know that suit you have in the back of the closet? I wanna see you in it.”

“ _Pushy,_ ” Cas mused, smiling as he turned to brush a kiss on the corner of Sam’s mouth before moving to do exactly as was requested.

Forty-five minutes later they were stepping out of a cab and Sam wrapped his arm around Cas’ waist as they walked into the restaurant. It was the spot they went to on their first anniversary to celebrate — a trendy place called Marcella’s — and Sam had thought about bringing Castiel there for three days straight, after making the reservation on Wednesday. The hostess lead them to a table in the back, and when she asked about their drink requests, Sam happily ordered the same vintage wine they had drank six years ago.

Castiel looked down at the menu for a moment, before catching Sam’s gaze once they were alone. “If I had known that quitting your job would make you so romantic, I would have suggested you do it years ago.”

Reaching across the table, Sam ran his thumb over the top of Castiel’s hand. “We were long overdue. Plus, I talked to the bank today and we’ve been approved for the loan.”

“Seriously?”

After touring the house earlier in the week, Sam had came home to gush over every detail about the place that he could. Eventually, Cas broke down and took an extended lunch so that he could tour the house as well. They had put in the request with the bank that evening — both agreeing that the house was perfectly suited for the future that they envisioned together. 

Sam had even started looking at jobs closer to where the house was, instead of in the city. There was a small community college nearby that needed part-time professors, and he was contemplating sending in a resume.

“That’s fantastic! Definitely worth celebrating,” Cas mused, eyes lit up in happiness.

They settled in, ordering their meals and stealing bites off of each other’s plates, not at all bothered by the lack of constant conversation. Getting to be there and enjoy each other’s company was more than enough. 

Over a dessert of death-by-chocolate cake shared between them, Castiel paused with his spoon held in midair and asked, “Have you noticed any changes in Dean recently?”

Sam frowned, remembering the events from earlier in the week. “How so?”

“He’s just been—” Cas frowned, nose scrunched up as he stared into space and seemed to try and find the right way of wording his thoughts, “a bit touchy-feely? If that makes sense? Like this morning when he saw that I had made coffee, he gave me a hug before pouring a cup? And last night when you went to bed early and I stayed up to finish my book? He fell asleep with his head in my lap.”

_Weird._ “He did?”

“Yes. I wanted to be honest with you about it because of what happened before… I don’t…” Cas shook his head, “I don’t have any intention of letting that happen again. It’s just… lately it feels like I’m dating both of you, with the way he acts.”

Sam swallowed down the rest of his wine, thankful that the cake was gone because his appetite had suddenly soured. He looked up at the man he loved and forced a smile, “Can we go for a walk? And talk?”

Castiel nodded, finishing his last bite of chocolate cake before waving the waiter down for the bill. A couple minutes later, they were stepping out into the surprisingly warm evening air and walking towards a nearby park. Sam tucked his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous. Castiel seemed to sense that, and remained quiet — waiting for Sam to talk.

“When I was sixteen,” Sam started, “Dad kicked me out of the house. I woke up one night after having a particularly dirty dream and he pulled me out of bed, slammed me against the wall, and told me I was a disgusting pervert that he wouldn’t allow to live under his roof.”

Cas looped his arm through Sam’s and asked, “Because you were gay?”

Sam swallowed and whispered, “Because I liked my brother.”

“Oh.” If Sam expected Castiel to shy away from touching after the revelation, he was wrong. Cas remained walking by his side, still clinging to him as he processed Sam’s words. After a moment, “you were dreaming about your brother?”

“Yes.”

“A naughty dream?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.”

Sam stopped, pulling away from Castiel and staring at him in the soft light of the park’s overhead lamps. “ _Cas._ ”

Cas turned to look at him, “What would you like me to say, Sam? You were sixteen, and from what you’ve told me recently about your childhood… your brother was all you had back then. I think it’s completely natural for your mind to grasp onto the person you loved most and show it in every way.”

“So you don’t think I’m a freak?” Sam asked, voice breaking a little.

“No more than I did ten minutes ago,” his boyfriend replied with a smile. A moment later, Castiel was stepping into his space and holding the lapels of his suit jacket as he pulled Sam in for a deep kiss. When they parted, Cas’ eyes had darkened and he remained a breath away as he asked, “Do you still?”

Sam shivered, closing his eyes and remembering earlier in the week. “We uh… I uh…” Did the temperature just rise twenty degrees?

Castiel pulled back, eyes open wide in shock. “Did something happen when you were gone that night?”

“It was just... “ He rubbed at the back of his neck and tried not to pass out. “We were drunk. The bed was small. There may have been some touching.”

The air around them was completely still and quiet for way too long. He had done, Sam had finally fucked up for the last time and Cas was going to leave him… What would he be then? A no-good brother fucker.

Castiel let out a sudden snort of air, causing Sam to jolt and look back up at the other man. Cas was looking away though, wonder in his eyes. “Holy fuck, that’s hot,” Castiel mumbled.

Sam stared at him in shock. There was no _possible_ way he had just said that, right? “Wh… what?”

It was now Castiel’s turn to look apologetic, as he ducked his gaze to the ground. “I’ve been having some dreams of my own, I guess. Generally thoughts of having both of you… at the same time.”

“Oh.”

_Ohhh._ Sam’s eyes widened. Suddenly, he was having a very similar thought, picturing Cas spread out before him, taking Sam’s dick like a champ while also rocking forward and wrapping his mouth farther around Dean’s cock. _Holy shit._ He could almost see the look in his brother’s eyes — the twinkle that would be there as they caught each other’s gazes and leaned forward to kiss, both sinking a little farther into Castiel’s willing body.

_Oh fuck._ Sam’s heart raced. “I could take you both,” he whispered, voice a bit in awe. Castiel very well knew Sam’s fantasy of being penetrated by two cocks at once, after all… his porn collection had a general _theme_ and wasn’t exactly hidden in their bedroom.

“Shit,” Castiel’s head fell back and he took a strangled breath. Sam tracked his eyes down and watched as his boyfriend adjusted himself in his tight suit pants. He was turned on! By thoughts of Sam fucking his brother!

Sam looked around at the empty park they were standing in, before quickly grabbing Cas’ hand and dragging him towards the nearby public bathrooms. As luck would have it, the door was unlocked, and he pulled Castiel into the small room, locked them in, and pressed his boyfriend’s back up against the door. He dropped to his knees without any hesitation or thought of the (probably disgustingly) dirty floor. 

As he worked on Castiel’s belt, he nuzzled at his hard cock through the fabric. “Want you to fuck my mouth,” he mumbled. 

“Fuck, Sam,” Cas growled, helping to get his own pants undone and shoved out of the way, before gripping both the base of his cock and a handful of Sam’s hair. He guided himself into Sam’s open mouth with a moan. “Feel so good, babe.”

As Sam moved his mouth up and down Castiel’s length, he brought a hand up and slipped it between the other man’s legs, quickly finding his puckered entrance and slowly brushing his thumb over it. He drug his mouth to the tip of Cas’ cock, swirled his tongue to collect the drops of precome, and leaned back to whisper, “What if he was here? Fucking you while I suck you off?”

“Nngghhh.” That moved Castiel into action, and both hands were soon fisting Sam’s hair while he rocked his hips back and forth — working up a rhythm as he started to fuck forward into Sam’s mouth. “Gonna watch him fuck you,” Cas mumbled, eyes closed and voice rough, “Watch him get you all loose and then slide right fucking in there beside his cock. Fill you up so good.”

Sam’s eyes rolled back in his head, hands holding Castiel’s hips and fingernails digging into his skin. His own dick twitched in his pants, untouched but perfectly able to find pleasure without friction.

“And when he comes,” Cas continued, “fills up your dirty stretched out hole… I’m going to pull out and lick you all clean. Kiss you. Feed you your brother’s come from your dirty asshole.”

_Shit._ Sam pulled off of Castiel’s cock in a rush, head hitting the jut of a hipbone as his body started to spasm and he came, hot and sticky, in his own pants. He could barely move as the feelings overtook him, but felt Cas grabbing his hair and pulling his head back… before jerking off and coming in two quick strokes, warm spunk landing on Sam’s face.

It was so dirty. _So fucking dirty._ But also? So very goddamn good.


	9. Chapter 9

\--- **he holds out his hand** \---

* * *

\--- **3 Months Later** \---

* * *

It took six weeks to get all of the paperwork finalized on the new house, while at the same time, their loft took only two weeks to sell. As promised, the apartment over the garage went to Dean, and he happily took to decorating a ‘place of his own’ with the money he was making and stashing from his new job. They had to buy a car (two, actually), but settled for cheaper used options so they wouldn’t be loaded down with both a home payment and outrageous car payments. More often than not, though, it was Dean borrowing Sam’s car, since Sam was able to walk to his new job at the community college. He was teaching a first year English course and pre-Law course, an easy schedule that barely had him busy three days a week… but he _loved_ it.

As far as expanding their relationship to include Dean, Cas and Sam had both decided to take their time deciding if that was really what they wanted, before jumping in head first. The fact was… they had a lot to lose if things went wrong, but Dean would have even more to lose, since his living situation was dependent on them, and he had no one else to turn to.

Walking home on a warm Thursday afternoon, Sam was in a shadier part of town when he heard a cry of distress coming from a nearby alleyway. He turned at the noise, unable to distinguish if it was human or animal; either way, he found himself shifting his messenger bag so that it rested against his back, freeing up his body in case he had to make any sudden movements.

The alley dead ended at a brick wall, where two men were hovering over a young black girl that was curled in a tight protective ball.

Sam saw one of the men swing his leg like he intended to kick the girl, and didn’t hesitate to yell out, “Hey!” His pace quickened, adrenaline hitting his bloodstream. “What the fuck are you doing?” He probably didn’t look very intimidating in his professor-wear, but he easily had a foot in height on both of the men — a fact that had them backing away as soon as they realized it. “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!”

“This little bitch stole our money!” One of the men dared to argue.

Sam moved so that he was standing between the two men and the girl. “And I’m sure the police will believe that over the fact that I saw you assaulting her in broad daylight. Now… I think I told you to get the fuck out of here.”

He waited, arms crossed over his chest, until the two men walked out of the alley and turned the corner. Finally, once he was sure they were gone, he turned around to face the girl, kneeling by where she lay. “Are you okay? Let me call an ambulance.”

The girl sprang up, grabbing his hand before it could reach his pocket. “Please no,” she begged.

Now that she wasn’t curled in on herself, Sam could see the damage that the men had done. The girl had a split lip, a black eye, and a cut on her forehead covered in rocks and bleeding badly. She didn’t look a day over thirteen… “It’s fine. If your parents don’t have insurance then I’ll cover the bill.” 

“No,” she shook her head, tears mixing with the blood on her face. “They’ll send me back. Please no.”

“Back where?” Sam pulled his phone out, bringing up a text message so he could get Dean to come pick them up in the car. At the sight of panic in her eyes, he showed her the phone screen. “I’m just texting my brother. He can pick us up and we can get that cut looked at.”

“Please,” she whispered, eyes drooping a bit. Sam suspected that shock was starting to set in. “I don’t wanna go back to the orphanage.”

_Orphanage?_ Sam opened his mouth to ask another question, but the girl had already passed out. _Shit._ He felt his phone vibrate and quickly read the message from Dean saying that he was on his way. Sam pocketed his phone once more and reached out to lift the young girl into his arms. He expected her to weigh more than she did — but apparently the bulk of her form was clothing, because she felt like she hadn’t ate in a week.

Five minutes later, Dean pulled up to the end of the alley and Sam climbed into the backseat of the car with the girl cradled in his lap. Dean turned, head tilted as he gave Sam a strange look. “Interesting day at work?”

“Two guys were beating her. She’s just a kid. Said she doesn’t want to go to the hospital because they’ll send her back to an orphanage.”

Dean nodded, turning back to the road and driving the few blocks towards their house. “You did this with a stray puppy once when we were kids…”

“ _Dean._ ”

“Just sayin’.”

* * *

When they got home, Sam laid the girl on the sofa and quickly grabbed the first aid kit to clean her wounds. At the same time, he demanded that his brother rush down to the store and at least get her one pair of clean clothes to be able to wear. Dean had given him a bugged out look before Sam checked the tag on the back of the girl’s shirt and gave his brother a better idea of what to look for. 

Thankfully, most of her wounds were just artificial cuts and the worst one — the cut on her forehead — just needed a couple of butterfly bandages to keep it closed. Once her face was cleaned up, Sam put the first aid kit away and searched through the cabinet in the kitchen that held the medicine. A moment later, ibuprofen and a glass of juice in hand, he went back to the living room and set the medicine down before sitting in the chair across from her.

The clock on the other side of the room chimed repetitively, reminding him of every second that passed that she was still unconscious. He was just about ready to call for an ambulance anyways, when she started to blink her eyes and try to sit up. 

“Woah, woah, easy.” He moved over to the table, reaching out to ease a throw pillow under her. “I wouldn’t try moving too quick, you’ve probably got a pretty good concussion.”

“Wha—”

“Here.” Sam grabbed the pills and juice and held them out to her, helping her to hold the cup as she swallowed the pills down. Instead of just taking a sip or two of the juice, though, she quickly finished off what was in the cup. _Definitely malnourished._ “I sent my brother to buy you some clean clothes. And I’ve patched up your wounds.”

“Fifty dollars,” the girl stated, easing up until she was sitting fully with her back against the pillow. Her chocolate brown eyes looked over at him. “Hundred for the whole shebang.”

“What?” He didn’t understand. “What are you talking about? You don’t have to pay for my help.”

“Not me,” she shook her head. “You, mister. If you wanna fuck me, you gotta pay.”

_Shit._ Sam jumped to his feet and quickly backed away, holding his hands up in front of him. “I’m not… I wouldn’t… that’s not…”

“No discount for performance anxiety.”

“I’m not going to have sex with you! You’re just a kid!” He ran a hand over his face, feeling like he might throw up. “Is that what those guys were trying to do to you?”

The girl shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first.”

“And going back to an orphanage would be worse than that?”

She tugged a sleeve down, turning slowly and moving her feet off the couch. “People at the orphanage don’t pay… they just _take._ ”

“Shit.” Sam shook his head, quickly reaching out to grab her cup and going towards the kitchen. “I’ll get you some more juice.” Once in the kitchen, he ignored the thoughts of dirty old men forcing themselves on a helpless girl as he refilled her cup and then quickly made her a peanut butter and honey sandwich. “Are you allergic to peanuts?” he called back into the living room.

The girl stood in the doorway of the kitchen, licking her lips and staring at what he was doing. “Is that peanut butter?”

“Yeah.” He motioned for her to sit at the kitchen island, worried that she might be dizzy and pass out again. Once she had sat down, he finished with the sandwich and slid it across to her, along with the juice. “My name is Sam, by the way.”

She didn’t respond right away… too busy devouring the sandwich. He made her another half a sandwich as she ate, and was placing it in front of her by the time she was finished with the first.

“Haven’t had peanut butter in forever,” she whispered, drinking her juice. “You got celery?”

Sam laughed, nodding his head as he turned to the fridge to pull out the celery. “What’s your name?” he asked, handing her over a stalk of celery.

“Alaysa,” she answered. Opening the second sandwich he’d put before her, she laid out the celery across the peanut butter, before closing the sandwich back. Her eyes met Sam’s once more, “Momma called me Ally.”

He smiled, “It’s nice to meet you, Ally. Care to tell me how old you are?”

She pulled the sandwich back from her mouth, straightened her back and looked him in the eye. “Sixteen.”

Looking into her brown eyes, he could see himself… the boy who had gotten kicked out of his home and tried to be a man so that no one would ask questions. Sam shook his head, at the memories and Ally’s lie. “Try again.”

Her gaze dropped and her shoulders sagged, “Thirteen,” she whispered.

Sam nodded, hearing the garage door opening — signalling that Dean was back. “Finish your sandwich, Ally. I’m going to talk to my brother, Dean.” He made it all the way to the door between the kitchen and the garage, when he stopped and looked back at her. “I know what you’re thinking right now… thinking about how you could just leave right now while my back is turned. Maybe take something you could use for money. If you do that, I won’t blame you. You’re scared and you don’t know me… but if you stay, I’m offering a temporary home and three meals a day, okay?” He watched her staring at the sandwich in her hands and smiled. “Also, the porcelain cat on the fireplace mantel is worth the most, so take it. _Please._ My boyfriend inherited it from his grandmother and it’s fucking ugly.”

Ally looked up in surprise, and Sam winked at her before stepping out into the garage.

He had absolutely no idea what he was getting himself into, but he knew that Ally was a kindred spirit; another loss soul just looking for a home. And he was meant to help her.


	10. Chapter 10

\--- **he doesn’t want a goodbye** \---

* * *

To say that Sam was disappointed when he walked back into the house and it was empty, would be an understatement. He shouldn’t of gotten his hopes up — he knew what it was like to be in Ally’s position and fearful of anyone and everyone offering a handout — but he had still hoped that she would accept his offer, at least for a couple of days. 

Over the next two days, he found himself noticing things that were missing. Not, unfortunately, the stupid ugly cat, but a pillow and blanket from the living room, his hiking backpack that he hadn’t put into storage in the garage yet, a few cans of food. At least if Ally had to leave, she had been smart enough to arm herself with supplies that would keep her warm and fed for a few days. 

Castiel had looked at Sam with a peculiar expression, when Sam had laid in bed and explained everything that had happened. Sam realized that maybe Cas hadn’t understood the full depths of his need to be a parent until that moment. 

The next week seemed to drag on, and despite the endless hours spent researching adoption and speaking with adoption lawyers, Sam felt like something was missing. Cas had to fly overseas again to sign off on another deal, and as Sam rolled into a four day weekend thanks to a holiday, he felt his depression hitting even harder.

Friday, he woke up at his normal time, took a shower like he always did, only to find himself collapsing back into bed a few minutes after drying off. By two in the afternoon, he was still there and had been drifting in and out of sleep because he couldn’t find the energy or motivation to do _anything_ , so why even try?

The next time he blinked awake, the bedroom television was on, and there was a weight on the other side of the bed. Confused, he rolled over, already wondering what had brought Castiel back so early, only to be met with the sight of his brother sitting next to him with a plate of french fries in his lap.

Sam’s stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn’t ate all day. Reaching out, he snagged one of the fries and quickly ate it.

Dean looked over at him, eyes sparkling in the sunshine coming in through the windows. “Hey.” Sam stole another fry and answered with a grunt, causing Dean to frown. “You going to tell me what’s up? Or do I need to pin you down and tickle?”

Slowly licking the salt from his fingertips, Sam waited a moment before meeting his brother’s gaze and whispering, “I wanted her to stay.”

The tears fell down his cheeks before he realized what was happening, and Dean quickly set the plate on the nightstand before wrapping Sam up in his arms. “You gave her what she needed. I know it hurts, but she needed someone to show her kindness without holding her down. Anyone else would have just called the authorities.”

Sam rested his head against Dean’s chest. “Maybe I should have, at least then I would know that she’s fed.”

They were quiet after that, settling in against each other as Dean watched a Spanish soap opera and Sam tried to ignore the fact that he could actually understand what was being said and the plot was terrible. After a couple minutes, he leaned farther over his brother so that he could reach for a few cold french fries and eat them.

As he made the move, Dean’s hand that had been on his back, was suddenly resting on the curve of his ass, reminding Sam suddenly that he had fallen asleep on the bed in his boxers and a t-shirt… and his dick was now pressed against his brother’s thigh and starting to stir. 

_Damn it._

He pulled away, moving to sit back on his side of the bed and pulling the covers up to his stomach. After a few beats, he turned his head, ready to apologize. 

Unfortunately… (or not so) it was cut off by his brother surging across the space and meshing their lips together in a kiss.

He was stunned by the move, but only for a moment; after that moment passed, he brought his hands up to Dean’s face and let the kiss deepen. Sam wasn’t quite sure if it was the forbidden element, that made it better, or if it was just _that_ damn amazing to be kissed by Dean Winchester. Either way, he fell into it and immediately wanted more. 

“Sammy,” Dean groaned against his lips, nipping and biting, hands grasping fistfulls of Sam’s shirt. When Dean pulled, Sam went with the motion, finding himself straddling his brother’s lap as Dean quickly broke the kiss and tugged Sam’s shirt off his body. “Fuck,” Dean stated, latching his lips onto Sam’s neck.

There was a lot of heat and desperation in their movements. Sam found that even the slightest of Dean’s touches burned a trail of fire along his skin. His dick was beginning to tent his boxers obscenely, and he could feel Dean grinding up against his ass with an equally hard cock. He wished Cas was there to join in, but knew that there was no way he’d be able to wait.

His lips brushed along the shell of Dean’s ear, before he whispered, “Want you to fuck me, Dean.”

“Gladly,” Dean growled, and a moment later he was lifting Sam and tossing him across the large bed. He stood, beginning to strip out of his clothes. “Where’s the lube?”

Sam pointed to the nightstand on Castiel’s side of the bed, as he wiggled out of his boxers. “Top drawer.”

When Dean climbed back onto the bed, they were both naked and he kissed a trail from Sam’s left thigh up to his quivering stomach. When the lid of the lube was flicked open, Dean met Sam’s gaze. “Will… will Cas be okay with this?”

Laughing, Sam bent his legs to give Dean better access to his hole. “He’s going to be fucking mad he missed out, but yeah. We’ve… talked about it, and decided that maybe we both wanted you.”

Dean nipped at Sam’s hip bone, and a moment later, a lubed finger began exploring his entrance. “Yeah? That’s fucking hot. Maybe next time…” Dean groaned, letting the finger slip inside, “Next time you plug him up, it’ll be with both of our come inside, yeah?” Sam started to squirm, unsure if it was the feeling of Dean stretching him open, or the idea of both of them fucking Cas. 

_At the same time._

He growled, cock leaking against his stomach. “Think he could take us both?”

As Dean pushed another finger in, he licked up the precome from the tip of Sam’s cock and smirked. “With this monster? I’m not sure how he survives with just it.”

Sam dug his fingers into Dean’s hair and huffed out a breathy laugh. “He likes it.” Another thought struck him and he raised his head to meet Dean’s heated gaze. “Would you take it?”

“In a heartbeat, little brother,” Dean breathed, placing gentle kisses along Sam’s hard length. Sam wiggled a bit impatiently, about to ask for _more_ , when suddenly Dean was withdrawing his fingers and reaching for the lube. As he slicked his cock, he smirked at Sam, “Want you to still feel this tomorrow… you okay with that?”

_God._ Sam was maybe going to have a coronary at any moment. It was like Dean knew him _too well_ and on top of the entire situation already being fucking hot beyond measure, there was his brother pushing all of the right buttons. Grabbing onto his own long legs, he held himself open and ready for Dean. “ _Fuck. Me._ ”

The burn as Dean slid home in one slow motion, was like taking that first shot of whiskey and feeling the alcohol slowly drift to your stomach. It was an out-of-body experience that Sam wanted to remember for the rest of his life so that he could revisit the moment whenever he saw fit. It was too much, but not enough.

Too good. Too amazing. Too… _everything._

So much so that Sam thought he would come unraveled with one slight touch. He felt like he was sixteen again and trying to train his body to last as long as possible, pins and needles dancing along his skin as he held back.

When Dean said he wanted Sam to feel it, he obviously meant it, because he barely gave Sam a chance to adjust to him being there, before he was pulling back out and slamming in again.

“Fuck!” Sam’s head shoved back against the bed and he cried out as that _one move_ pushed him over the edge. He came hard against his own stomach, body quivering from the over-stimulation as he tried to remember to breath.

Above him, Dean remained frozen, cock still buried deep in Sam, as his eyes moved from Sam’s flustered face, to the mess on his stomach. After a moment, he began to rock his hips. “Fuck, Sammy… that was hot.”

“I didn’t—” Sam groaned, body still shaking a bit as Dean’s cock continued to slowly brush along his prostate. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

“No? Well it was hot as fuck. Maybe we should try for number two?”

Sam snorted. “You’re going to kill me.”

* * *

Later that night, Sam sat on the back porch in the dark and dialed his boyfriend’s phone number. Cas had finally gotten smart and paid for an international phone plan, and if Sam had calculated the time difference correctly, should be in the midst of waking up for his day.

A sleep rough voice answered after the second ring, “ _Hey._ ”

“Hey Cas.” Sam smiled into his phone and wiggled a bit on the porch step, enjoying the sparks of pain that reminded him of what had happened a few hours before. “You awake yet?”

“I’ve been trying to avoid it for about an hour, but yes, I suppose I am.”

Sam could hear shuffling, and he imagined Cas moving around a fancy hotel room. Probably naked. More than likely trying to figure out the fancy European coffee maker. “I miss you.”

“Mmm, same.” Sam could hear the sleepy smile in Castiel’s voice, followed by the sound of coffee percolating. “Should be home the day after tomorrow.”

“Good. I…” _Shit._ He suddenly felt nerves dancing in the pit of his stomach. But, they had made a promise to be honest with each other after everything that had went down… “I wanted you to know that Dean and I… well…”

There was a deep growl on the other end of the line. “Did you fuck him?”

“Actually, he fucked me.”

“Fuck, that is all kinds of hot. Couldn’t wait for me to get home, huh?”

“Things happened fairly quickly. But I told him that we were both into it and he now has plans to see if you can take both of us…”

Another groan. Suddenly Castiel seemed a lot more awake. “I might need to expedite the end of this trip.”

“Well, if you can’t make that happen, I was thinking that in the morning, maybe we could manage a sexy-Skype session.”

“I would like that,” Cas replied, “I would like that a lot.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn but the smut in this took forever. Apologies for the delay. One more chap to go after this!

\--- **he watches the sunrise** \---

* * *

Sunday morning, Castiel sat in the corner recliner and watched as Dean and Sam slept snuggled together on the large master bed. The more he watched the two men together, the happier he was that they had sprung for a larger than normal king sized bed when they moved into the new house. There was a perfect space for him, if he had the inclination to slide into the bed and snuggle between the brothers.

Unfortunately, he had spent a long time sleeping on the red-eye that he had taken from Europe, and because of such, wasn’t tired at all. In fact, his entire body was humming with anticipation. When he had gotten home, he had prepped himself in the bathroom downstairs, using one of his favorite plugs to keep his hole stretched and ready. When he saw the two naked men in his bed, he knew that he had made the right decision. 

He wanted both of them — wanted Dean fucking his ass while Sam fucked his mouth. That solitary thought had kept his cock achingly hard for hours. Since he didn’t know how long the brothers had slept, though, he wanted to give them at least until the sun rose before he all but molested them in bed.

When the sky was completely bright, illuminated by the morning sun, Castiel finally stood and shed the rest of his clothing. He sized the bed up for a moment, trying to figure out how best to proceed, before finally shrugging and jumping onto the empty space in the middle of the bed.

The brothers, hilariously, reacted in two completely different fashions. Sam groaned, used to Castiel sometimes being an asshole, and in his still-mostly-asleep state of mind, rolled over and tried to snuggle Cas. Dean, on the other hand, sat bolt upright and looked around the room like he was expecting an intruder. Castiel could see that, for a moment, Dean’s first and only thought was to protect his family from something bad.

Then, Dean turned and spotted Castiel and his face suddenly went from ‘fight and protect mode’ to not-so-subtle adoration. “Hey,” Dean whispered, voice sleep rough. His eyes glanced beyond where Castiel was laying, to see that Sam was still asleep, lingering for a moment before moving back to hold Cas’ gaze. “How long you been here?”

“Got in a few hours ago; wanted to let you two sleep as long as possible.” He felt Sam roll away to face the other direction, obviously not awake enough to know anything had changed. That was fine… Sam had gotten a chance to be with Dean while he was away, so now it was Castiel’s turn for fun. He trailed a finger slowly down Dean’s chest, following the trail of hair, but stopping just shy of where Dean’s cock lay, twitching with interest. “Wanna shower?” he paused, meeting green eyes, “With me?”

Another quick glance at Sam, and Dean nodded, quietly shifting out of the bed and waiting on Castiel before following into the master bathroom. Once inside with the door closed, Dean pushed Cas forward against the sink and reached down to tap at the base of the plug he wore. “What is this?”

Looking in the mirror, Castiel caught the heated look in Dean’s eyes and smiled, “I wanted to be ready.”

“I can see that.” Dean smirked, looking like the cat that caught the canary. “I have an idea.”

* * *

When Castiel walked back out of the bathroom, his hair was dripping a bit and the plug in his ass wiggled with every step. His cock was also rock hard, because Dean had worked him all the way to orgasm, before squeezing at the base of his cock to keep him from falling over the edge. 

Seeing Sam laying on his back on the bed, sheets down around his ankles and cock spread out over his lower abdomen, Cas smiled and couldn’t help but lick his lips. He looked back over his shoulder, spotting an equally nude Dean leaning against the bathroom doorway and watching silently. Dean made a ‘go on’ motion with his hand, and Castiel nodded before slowly climbing onto the bed.

He crawled over his boyfriend, ass presented in the air so that Dean had a perfect view of the plug filling up his stretched hole.

Sam’s cock was still soft, so Cas leaned forward, licking a long strip from balls to tip, before wrapping his mouth around Sam’s dick and beginning to suck. By the time that Sam’s length had hardened in his mouth, Castiel could feel a hand stroking through his wet hair. He pulled his mouth to the head of Sam’s cock and blinked up through his lashes to meet the multi-colored eyes of the man he loved. 

“Good morning,” Sam whispered, voice sleep rough. “When did you get home?”

Castiel pulled his mouth away, an obscene string of drool and pre-come connecting his lips and Sam’s cock. “Few hours ago.” With a smile, he took another quick glance at Dean, before reaching behind his own body and pulling the plug free. He tossed it in the direction of the floor, before quickly moving up, straddling Sam, and sliding down onto his boyfriend’s cock in one smooth move.

The room was filled with the groans of all three men. Sam, slowly starting to get with the picture, placed his hands on Castiel’s hips and watched in awe and pleasure as Cas slowly pulled up off his cock and then slid back down. When he had made the move twice, Sam held him still and looked down at his own cock. “What is that?”

Castiel couldn’t see what he was talking about, but had a fairly good idea. Before he could answer, though, Dean spoke up from the foot of the bed. “My come.”

“Shit,” Sam growled, hips raising up to slam back into Cas.

“Filled him up a few minutes ago and plugged it in there so he wouldn’t leak before he slid onto your dick.”

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Sam managed.

As Castiel was allowed to continue fucking himself on Sam’s dick, he suddenly felt two lubed fingers beginning to also run along the edge of his stretched out hole. Dean now had one knee on the bed as he pressed up against Castiel’s back and began littering kisses onto his skin.

The next move down and suddenly the fingers weren’t just touching… they were sliding _inside_ , right along next to Sam’s cock. When Dean had whispered in his ear in the shower, talking about all the nasty things he wanted to do to Cas… Cas hadn’t realized that Dean was going to make those things happen so quickly.

He slowed his movements, eyes catching Sam’s and seeing the knowing smile on the other man’s face, as Dean began slowly stretching his hole. 

Dean shifted, looking over Castiel’s shoulder at his brother. “Didn’t let him come, little brother. Wanted him to come on both of our cocks.”

“Fuck yeah,” Sam stated. His hands moved from Castiel’s hips, to his asscheeks, holding him spread open to help Dean out.

Another finger joined the other two, and Castiel felt impossibly full but knew he was going to be taking more. He glanced down to see his hard cock dribbling onto Sam’s stomach and knew that if Dean wanted to also be inside of him before Cas came, then they needed to get the show on the road.

“I’m ready,” he gasped. “Please… just… _fuck me,_ please!”

“He sure is needy, isn’t he, Sam?” Dean pulled his fingers away and for the first time in their relationship, Sam’s monster cock wasn’t enough to fill Castiel.

The feeling didn’t last long, though, because before he knew it, Dean was pushing him forward and rubbing his lubed cock against Castiel’s hole and the base of Sam’s dick. 

“Go slow,” Sam warned, kissing along Cas’ shoulder to keep him calm.

_Slow_ was an understatement. It seemed to take forever for Dean to press inside, moving inch by inch in a way that had Castiel feeling both amazing and overly-needy. Sandwiched between the two brothers, he couldn’t see his own hard cock, but he was sure it was now bright red with the need to fucking let go. 

Since Dean was on top, he now controlled the movements, and instead of all-out fucking, he started a very gentle rocking that had Sam’s cock rubbing against Castiel’s prostate, and Castiel seeing stars. 

He had walked into the situation knowing that he wasn’t going to last — not after the fucking from Dean in the shower and the extra stretching — but he was still a bit shocked when his own orgasm hit him just a few minutes into their movements. Dean made a particularly rough thrust, causing Castiel to slide up Sam’s stomach a bit and his hard-as-nails dick to rub along the hair on Sam’s happy trail. Ironically it wasn’t just the fucking that sent him over the edge… but ever so soft tickles of those hairs on his over-sensitive cock. 

He came with a yell, hands digging into Sam’s biceps and body convulsing between the two brothers.

His body tightening even more so around Sam and Dean’s cocks, was obviously too much for them to handle as well. He felt Sam’s dick begin to twitch deep inside of him, as Dean pulled out and grunted, his warm come hitting along Castiel’s previously clean back.

When Castiel finally stopped shaking and collapsed onto the bed next to Sam, he had to take a few minutes to catch his breath, before he could speak. “Would one of you clean me up? Don’t think I can move. And then come cuddle me. I need like super cuddles after that.”

Dean moved off the bed, already walking to the bathroom for a rag, as Sam wrapped Castiel in his arms and kissed him.

“I love you,” Sam whispered. “More than you’ll ever know.”

* * *

Sunday evening, Sam sat on the back porch step with Cas snuggled against his side. It had been a good day — one spent mostly having sex, yes, but they had also kind of figured out the dynamic that they would hold in the days going forward. After dinner, Dean had looked over the table at them and explained that, though he liked the sexual side of things and wanted to continue being a part of it, he would still maintain his apartment over the garage and spend most evenings there.

_”I just… I learned a long time ago that I’m not a fan of relationships. I like to have my own space, make my own decisions, and come and go without worrying about what someone else is thinking.”_

Aromantic, was the word he had used. And when Sam had later looked the word up on his phone, he had agreed that, yeah, that fit his brother perfectly.

The day had been, for the most part, _perfect._ If that was how the future was going to play out, then Sam had no complaints whatsoever.

… Okay, maybe one complaint. He still couldn’t help wondering what had happened to Ally. If she was safe, fed, and warm.

Maybe he would do some research the next day at work… see if there were any news articles that could answer his questions about her location.

Until then — he kissed Cas’ cheek — he would be thankful for all that he had.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty proud of this chapter title, I just gotta say. #punny

\--- **Epilogue: Poly Cotton Blend** \---

* * *

To say that Alaysa had trust issues, after a life spent in and out of different foster homes, group homes, and orphanages, would be an understatement. Ally had learned early not to trust _anyone._ Especially not white dudes trying to act nice.

Her initial reaction to Sam had obviously went along with those preconceived notions. Even if he said he wasn’t going to treat her wrong, she anticipated the worst and ran as soon as she was alone. The problem was, she was exhausted and worn down from living on the streets, and the prospect of a _good_ person, had her staying close.

Really close. There was an old worn down shed at the very back of Sam’s property with a broken lock and a leak-free roof. The first day there, she snuck inside with the pillow and blanket she had snagged as well as two apples and the entire jar of peanut butter Sam had left on the counter. She had also snagged an old backpack that had been on the floor and filled it with as many cans of food as she felt safe to snag. Despite everything, she still felt dirty when she had to steal food. But if the dude was okay with offering her a _home_ , then he would obviously get over some missing canned goods. And the beauty of the backpack was that if she had to run quickly, it would hold her new pillow and blanket very easily.

But despite living with a fear that someone would find her… weeks passed and she safely remained hidden. From her spot in the shed, she watched the comings and goings of the house and learned the schedules of the men that lived there. During the times when the house was empty, she would sneak out of the shed and use the key that she had watched Sam hide under a rock to get in through the back door. For thirty minutes she would use the restroom, take a quick shower, and then snag a couple food items. She also grabbed the bag of clothes that had been intended for her that first day… it wasn’t like the men would need them, and she hadn’t had a new pair of shoes in _years._

At night, hidden away, she would lay curled up on her makeshift bed and watch the house through a small hole in the wood wall of the shed. It was laying there, that she slowly understood the dynamic amongst the three men that lived there. One (Dean, the brother) lived in an apartment over the garage, and she would usually see him sneaking across the short distance between the back door and apartment stairs, late at night. The other two seemed to be in a serious relationship, judging by the way they snuggled and kissed at every opportunity.

But the surprising thing was… the _brother_ was somehow involved in the relationship as well. She had spied Sam and Dean making out while cooking at the grill on more than one occasion. The first time, she had actually _gasped_ at the sight, only to cover her mouth in a rush and pray that the two men hadn’t heard her noise.

It was over the weeks that she watched their interactions, that she suddenly grew more comfortable with the three men — which was ironic considering that she still only knew them from _observing._ But the thing was, she didn’t have to actually hear conversations to know that very few words were spoken in anger between the men. She witnessed one ‘fight’ and even that was concluded with a small water war and a make-out session. There were never any women around, leading her to believe that what Sam had said was true — if she lived there, she wouldn’t be touched.

She gave it another month, just to be sure. Even spent a week across town trying to see if she could make it like she had been before she met Sam. In the end, she spent seven long nights dreaming of having an actual _family_ , and walked back ‘home’ on the eighth day. Sam was in the front yard, knees in the dirt as he planted a couple small bushes. Instead of sneaking her way back to the shed, Ally walked up to where he was and sat down on the grass next to him.

Sam looked up immediately, and his face brightened with recognition when he saw her. “Hey,” he stated, voice soft and happy. “How have you been, Ally?”

A small part of her brain had told her that he wouldn’t remember her — but to hear him so easily say her name, made a smile tug gently at her lips. “Hi, Sam.” She ducked her head, “I uh… I been stayin’ out back, Sam.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You have?” He dusted the dirt off of his hands and turned towards her. “Where? How?”

“The shed. I just… I wanted to stay close. I wanted to believe you were nice.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “And?”

Ally took a deep breath, one hand behind her back with her fingers crossed, “You still got room for me?”

Sam’s face broke out in a large smile, bright enough to rival the sun. “Of course, Ally. _Always._ ”


End file.
